A Monday in February
Rainy season has continued into February: we’ve had rain four days in a row without an end in sight. This rain cancelled a weekend camping trip, but it kept Naomi, Izzy and me at home for the youngest girl’s birthday.
When I went downstairs, I greeted Mary Luz with a “Feliz Cumpleaños Preciosa!” scooping her up and swirling her around. The two of us played while the other girls and Tío Marco prepared her surprise: a special lunch and cake.
Then, all of us joined forces to decorate. I brought out crayons, cardstock and scissors: hands overflowing and little girls jumping up and down in excitement. The girls got busy cutting hearts, coloring and hanging balloons while I handed out tape and drew rainbows between shouts for “Tía!” “Tía!”.
The result was quite satisfactory:
We enjoyed our picnic meal prepared by Tío Marco and the girls, followed by cake and dancing.
The party lasted until about four in the afternoon when we (the interns) went upstairs, sticky but content, hands again overflowing with craft supplies and decorations.
On our way up, the teens challenged us to play volleyball that evening. Americans v Bolivians. Loser buys winner coke.
Deal.
After an hour of rest, we strutted downstairs again, ready to claim our victory. Naomi’s exact words were, “Guys. We’re gonna lose. I’m sorry.”
Volleyball here is very scrappy, and I have learned to put aside all my competitive nature when we play. So, our games were full of lots of laughter, bad serves and mad cheering when someone eventually had a good save. Still, we were on the point of fulfilling Naomi’s prophesy when two of the dogs started to fight. Saved by the bell. (Though I never thought I would be thankful for a dog fight.) We ran to separate them and will have to rematch the teens another day.
Monday night is unquestionably dinner with the boys. Of all the card games I’ve attempted to teach, war remains a fan favorite. Tonight’s game of war was especially sweet because when one of the boys lost, Izzy shared a few of her cards with him. Then, when I got out, he shared with me. This cycle continued until I lost count of how many times each gave & received. While technically not following the rules (and dragging the game to last over an hour), the spirit of sharing filled Izzy and my hearts, especially since these boys continuously struggle with cheating, as losing can feel threatening. The night ended with a good meal and, before bed, a “let’s-wear-you-out-so-you’ll-go-to-sleep” workout sesh.
Heading back upstairs for the last time that day, Izzy said, “What a sweet day.” And I couldn’t agree more.
